and then there was one
by anenemies
Summary: 5 times Fred and George were twins and 1 time they weren't.


And Then There Was One...

**5 Times Fred and George Were Twins and 1 Time They Weren't**

Molly huffed exasperatedly. Another baby boy was one thing; she'd had three others to harden her to that particular... _experience_. But _twins_? It seemed a little bit cruel. As it was Arthur had had to conjure up yet another floor to the Burrow and Percy pitched a mad fit every time she put him down to deal with those two. And now she could _not,_ for the life of her, find her wand. It had been happening on and off for weeks now, and it always took at least an hour to find it.

While Molly shuffled through the kitchen drawers with increasing fervour, Fred and George sat just beyond view with the wand on the floor between them. Although blessedly quiet for the first time in hours, they both bore disturbingly wide identical grins. 

They'd seen this train before. Every year since they can remember dropping off Bill and then Charlie, and then Percy. Now it was their turn. It was going to be _bloody_ amazing. They'd learnt that word fairly recently from Bill but he had made them swear not to use it in front of Mum. _Ever_. So they promised not to as long as Bill kept his gob shut about the rather unfortunate incident with Ron's bear. Still, Fred had never quite noticed how large the train was, and George was rather taken aback by the large number of people crowding into Platform 9 ¾. Mum was getting all teary eyed and ordering Bill to watch after them, while Charlie and Percy were already on the train with their mates. Ron was looking rather overjoyed that the twins were off for the year and little Gin's lower lip was trembling. So Fred chucked her under the chin and George mussed Ron's freshly combed hair so Mum was forced by some innate Mum-Law to spit none too delicately into her palm and smooth out the flinching boy's hair. Seeing a rare window of opportunity Bill grabbed at the twins and was off and up the steps of the train within moments. Still the twins paused at the entrance. Maybe they were just a bit afraid. Maybe. Still Fred, or maybe it was George, reached out and grabbed the other's hand. It was going to be brilliant. _Bloody brilliant._

"Whatcha think of Angelina?"

"Whatcha mean? I think she's great, right demon with a quaffle her."

"No, I meant, like, as a _girl_."

"Oh... Well, about the same sort of feelings I suppose. Oh! And she's got breasts. Which really, extra points for being so quick on the field with _those_ bouncing about!"

"_No_! Like a _girl_ girl. I dunno. It's stupid. Hey, do you think if we mince the faerie wing instead of grinding them it wouldn't combust so quickly?|

"Naw, it'd just make the powder burn slower... I think Angelina's quite nice, you know. A proper sort of _girl_. Yeah?"

"Yeah. Thanks George."

"No problem mate... Hey, Fred?"

"Yeah?"

"Whatcha think of Katie?" 

It sat between them on Fred's bed like some immovable, imperturbable, unflappable, _lump_. They always held secret meetings of the twin variety on Fred's bed because George insisted it was roomier. Fred protested but was outvoted by both George's left and right hands and his own treacherous left one.

"I reckon he ought to have it."

"But it holds such _memories_."

"Aye, but nothing we haven't got memorized." Fred grinned, they had long ago committed the secret passages of the school to memory. It had been a bit of a competition second year (Fred _knew_ he had won but figured calling it a tie was better for egos all around).

"But it's dead handy. I mean we haven't been caught in _forever_."

"Are you doubting our prowess? Nay good sir, we shall _never_ be caught, we're just that good." George nodded contemplatively in agreement. Too right they wouldn't get caught. They were the bloody Weasley Twins.

"So we're agreed then? Tomorrow, once everyone else is on their way?"

"Filch will be too occupied with the other students."

"Perfect."

Still, there it was. A physical piece of their time spent loyally in mischief waiting to be gifted away.

"Reckon it's a good thing, ya know?"

"Yeah, passing on the tradition. Too right!"

"Like Ickle Ronniekins could ever carry on our great tradition."

Snickering quietly, George padded back across the dorm to his own bed, his footsteps covered by the snores and wheezes of their two roommates. Meanwhile Fred pried up the loose floorboard, which he firmly suspected was duplicated under all of the beds in the school just to give students a place to put secrets, and placed the rolled piece of parchment into the hollow. Pulling his curtains shut he flopped face first into his pillow in his nightly ritual before bed, while George lay firmly on his back eight feet and three squeaky floorboards away.

"Mischief managed." Neither was sure who whispered that into the dark, but both fell asleep smiling. 

Breathless the two sprinted off round the corner before tucking up behind the tapestry of _Wesley the Sensitive and his Noble Steed, Caroline_. Holding in their gasping breaths they both waited the traditional thirty seconds after the footsteps of their pursuers faded before bursting into hysterical laughter.

"Did you see his face!"

"Oh Merlin! Or what about his hair?"

"Priceless! Teach the swot to run his mouth off about muggles to little Hermione."

"Little? Did you see the kick she gave the bloke, if he wasn't a right arse I would have felt bad for him. Right bruise he'll have."

Together they laughed for a bit more in the quiet dark of secret corridor. Then, sighing "I'm going to miss this."

"What, did you plan a trip and forget to invite me? It's only February mate."

"I know, I mean I'll miss _this_, the pranking that is."

"Whatcha mean? You quitting on me?" Fred pretended aloofness but was sincerely alarmed, more at his sudden heartburn than the news, but still.

"No! I mean, we've only got a few years left... And then what? We'll get jobs, in the ministry or something. We'll get jobs and houses and wives and I'm sure it'll be great, Dad seems to get on well enough, but I'll miss this, yeah?" Both Fred and George paused. It was one of those moments when an entire lifetime stretched in front of a person, whole and fragile – a future spun of gossamer.

"Who says?" As per usual, Fred trampled all over the fragile thing. "Who says we have to grow up and that stuff. _I_ don't want to stop, do you?"

"Well, not now but... I mean we'll need a _job_ Fred."

"Aye, your right... Well, we could just keep doing this."

"Whatcha mean?"

"I mean, I bet we could sell some of our stuff. Everyone always gets a laugh, and it'd be a shame to let all those potions and charms to sit and rot while we go about our ministry jobs with our houses and our wives."

"You reckon we could? Like Zonko's or something?"

"Of course we can! We're the Weasley Twin's right? Oh we could call it that, our shop. No, our _franchise_."

"Naw, sounds a bit like a taxidermist's shop. We'll figure something out." Leaning out from behind the tapestry George checked the hall for anyone coming or going, "We've got tons of time yet."

One after the other he and Fred slipped into the hallway with a studied nonchalance before strolling back towards the tower.

"Yeah, tons of time." 

When George lost his ear his family dealt with it in different ways. His Mum bawled then made his some fudge. His Dad held his hand underneath the blanket Ginny had nearly suffocated him in and didn't ever flinch or let go no matter how hard he squeezed. Ron went silly pale and went to his room. Percy didn't respond to the letter. Bill and Charlie both gave him a serious talk each accompanied by an awkward hug. Fred cracked silly jokes with him and always made certain to be looking him in the eye. Harry felt guilty, of course. And Hermione buried him in books. There were all sorts. Some medical, some muggle, some magical. He remembers reading that a person who loses a limb will occasionally feel phantom sensations from the missing body part.

George never really noticed any phantom sensations from his ear, not that he had really noticed any sensations from his corporeal ear in the first place. Now he wonders if this was the same thing. Because he still wakes up some nights and reckons he can hear Fred on his way back from the bathroom. Or he can feel the way his arm would hang around his shoulders when they would try to confuse Mum. Or that odd twin thing they would sometimes get when the other was super, ridiculously, pissed off. George thinks he might just be pissed off enough for the two of them.

Was it the same thing though, he wonders. Losing a limb and losing a twin? We're the two comparable. Because to be frank, he'd gladly give up another miscellaneous appendage then if he could have him back.

His body may be (mostly) whole, which was better than quite a few others, but he was still missing half of himself.


End file.
